Spiraling Down
by Bookboy12
Summary: This is the story of Shawn Michael's rivalry with The Undertaker. Please, comment/review my story.


1

"The winner of Match Of The Year is . . . Shawn Michaels vs. The Undertaker."

The entire crowd erupted into bedlam as my buddy Triple H announced the winner. This was the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment) Slammy's; I thought the name of the award ceremony was brilliant because the Slammy part dealt with wrestling moves. In a way, the Slammy's were kind of like the Grammy's, except for wrestlers like I was.

Now that it was announced that the Undertaker and I won match of the year at Wrestlemania XXV(25)—which was kind of like the Super Bowl in wrestling—I had to walk out and accept the award. So I did.

Inside, I felt the familiar warm, tingly sensation that I always felt when I got out in front of the crowd. But, of course, I couldn't show it; wrestlers were looked at as tough men.

My entrance music played as I walked out, the crowd cheering for me as I did. For just a second, I imagined what they were seeing(I did this often); they saw me wearing a DX beanie, my DX shirt, my DX shoes, and my DX pants; in other words, my DX uniform. And that was another thing about myself; not only was I a WWE legend, but in my career of wrestling, I formed one of the greatest tag teams ever; DX, which included only Triple H and I. Hmm. I wonder if people thought Triple H was rigging the winner. Probably not.

DX was one of my many great accomplishments in the WWE, but there was also many more; such as the fact that in 1995, I entered a match called the Royal Rumble an number one and won. (I'll later explain why that was such a big deal). Only one other man in history of the WWE has entered number one and won. Which was Chris Benoit, who had died because of a terrible incident caused by the use of steroids.

Michael Cole, one of the ring announcers automatically started speaking as I walked out. "It was such an honor to be ringside at that match up, to witness the match. With all the twists and turns, the emotional rollercoaster that night."

"All of the Wrestlemania XXV matches were good, but Shawn Michaels vs. The Undertaker was the best in my opinion," Jerry the King Lawler, another ring announcer said.

"That's why it won Match Of The Year. That's why Shawn Michaels, perhaps the greatest wrestler in history, is accepting this award," another announcer, Josh, bragged about me.

Triple H waited for the crowd to be quiet and then I stepped in front of the microphone. Before I could speak, the crowd started chanting my name. I was flattered, as always.

While I waited them to settle down, I thought about Wrestlemania XXV(which was often compared to the Super Bowl, most people considering it the Super Bowl of wrestling).

Wrestlemania XXV was the last Wrestlemania to take place. Being considerably the highest income of any annual pay-per view, Wrestlemania had many nicknames. One of the more famous ones was the "Grandest Stage Of Them All." And this was true. Every single wrestler wanted to go to Wrestlemania. That was the event where you got a chance to shine.

However, as many people thought I shined, I didn't. And the reason was because I didn't beat The Undertaker at Wrestlemania. The only reason I even face The Undertaker at Wrestlemania was because he was known for what peopled call "The Streak."

"The Streak" originated since Undertaker fought at his first Wrestlemania, which was Wrestlemania VII(5). As time went on, people noticed that he had not once lost at Wrestlemania. And then it became somewhat of a habit to win at Wrestlemania for the Undertaker.

When his streak climbed to 16-0, I decided I wanted to face him. And people said I was so close to winning; but I didn't. So then that meant Undertaker was 17-0 at Wrestlemania. Oh well, I gave it a try, though right? I at least tried to beat the legendary streak?

I coughed and then began to speak into the microphone to the audience. "You know, I've had the honor of receiving this award two years in a row. Last year, I got the Match Of The Year award after defeating the great Rick Flair at Wrestlemania." The crowd cheered again and I stopped so I could rub my chin.

But I also thought. I thought about two Wrestlemania's ago, when I faced one of my best buddies in the world, Rick Flair. I didn't want to fight him but he just kept begging. So I accepted under one condition; if I won, his career would be over. And I did win. The consequences were that I retired him. But not many people would believe how guilty I felt for doing that; Rick Flair was one of the WWE's greatest legends. He was in the WWE for over thirty years. Thirty six, I think. His entire career was amazingly successful. So ending it was tough for me. I remembered that day, when I defeated him, retired him. It was so emotional. All of the WWE fans were sorrowful.

Now that the crowd was once again silent, I continued my speech. "Last Wrestlemania, when I faced The Undertaker, I came up a little bit short and did not break the Undertaker's undefeated streak, but I am still very proud of what he and I accomplished. So I just want to thank you all very much," I thanked them, holding up my Slammy trophy that represented wrestling.

I took a single step to my right and then froze. It was like fate was holding me back. And that made me think. What I had wanted most was to break the Undertaker's undefeated streak, but I didn't. I came so close. The crowd was chanting my name and I suddenly felt so alive.

Whirling around, I put my mouth near the microphone, placed my trophy on the stand, and spoke again. "You know something, Undertaker? I can beat you!" My voice was clearly a challenge to him. It was also strong, fierce. "I know it. And more importantly; you know it. So right here, tonight, I'm throwing out the challenge. You and me. Wrestlemania. One. More. Time."

Every single organism of the crowd thundered in excitement, some going into a frenzy.

I turned and walked away from the crowd, the announcers who were talking, stunned by my challenge, and headed for the locker rooms. My challenge was out there. Would the Undertaker would except it or not? I didn't know, but I'd find out soon enough.

Until then, I just wanted to go home and be with my family.

2

Exactly one week later, on Monday Night Raw, the Undertaker and I stood facing each other across the ring, the crowd watching us. The Undertaker raised his microphone. "Now what did you call me out here for?" he asked, his deep voice not scaring me one bit. He was a creepy man for one, although we did have a few things in common, like the fact that we were born in Texas.

But we had more differences. For example, instead of being born in San Antonio like I was, he was born in Austin. And his dressing style didn't match mine. He wore a long, black coat that nearly touched the ring's mat, black boots, and a black hat, casting a shadow over his face. Underneath that hat, I knew he had long, straight, black hair, and the creepiest eyes ever.

"I wanted a rematch at Wrestlemania XXVI. I came too close last year in beating your streak to give up now," I explained.

He raised his microphone again. "My answer . . . Is no."

I didn't expect my reaction to be what it was; I turned my face to the side, almost as if the rejection hurt. It did. It stung so bad, made me so furious. I wanted to win. I had been so close.

As the seconds ticked by, both the crowd and The Undertaker saw that I needed a moment to gather my emotions together again. He turned and began to exit the rings, through the red ropes.

"I realize what I have to do now," I murmured into the microphone. That had caused The Undertaker to come back to the middle of the ring to face me. "I'm gonna enter the Royal Rumble. And, when I win, the champion I am going to face is you."

The Undertaker gave me a frustrated expression and then exited the ring. I closed my eyes tight in pleasure at the idea, while the announcer, Michael Cole, spoke. "So the pressure is now on Shawn Michaels to win the Royal Rumble to get his rematch with The Undertaker."

Whoever won the Royal Rumble, a long, grueling match that only happened once a year, got to face either the WWE Champion or the World Heavyweight Champion at Wrestlemania. And that was what wrestlers wanted. To headline Wrestlemania. So I would have to wait one month until the Royal Rumble Match, which was in January, 2010, to see if I could get my rematch with the devilish Undertaker.

Hopefully, I would.

3

I sat in my locker room, staring at the T.V. as the Royal Rumble Match started. My entry number wasn't too bad, but it wasn't really late like I was hoping either. Oh well; if I could enter number one and win, then I could enter around the halfway mark and win as well.

The theme song for the Royal Rumble, "I Made It," by Kevin Rudolf, was playing on the screen, showing wrestlers, a few images of me. Then, the camera view went from the highlights and songs and to the announcer, who were sitting gaily at ringside.

Like always, Michael Cole was the first one to say something. "And Ladies and Gentlemen, we are indeed on the road to Wrestlemania. We are live tonight in Atlanta, Georgia. Sixteen thousand plus here in the Philip's Arena."

"It's sold out here," Jerry the King Lawler, another announcer, cut in. "What is it gonna be like at Wrestlemania?"

The third announcer, Matt Striker, said, "Well, we're starting off the road to Wrestlemania with a beauty here called the Royal Rumble. The road to Wrestlemania is the countdown of days leading to the grandest stage of them all, Wrestlemania."

"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, this Royal Rumble is our all-star game, except in _this_ all-star game, our superstars are actually playing for something," Michael Cole explained. "They're playing for a guaranteed title opportunity at Wrestlemania. It is the Royal Rumble Match."

I watched the screen as it switched over to another fast flicker of images. "It is the Royal Rumble Match," a voice said in a very familiar husky tone. "Thirty superstars. One winner. The prize: a main even championship opportunity at Wrestlemania. There has been twenty-three winners in the past." It switched over to a flashback of me winning the Royal Rumble. "Shawn Michaels has won the Royal Rumble," a different voice declared. "What makes this match so special?" the husky voice asked, coming back. "Since 1988, six-hundred and twenty-seven superstars have tried to win the rumble match, only to be eliminated. Another record is held by Stone Cold Steve Austin, who has the record for eliminating the most superstars in total of all the matches he's been in. Or the record held by the demented Kane, which is that he has eliminated eleven superstars in a single match, which means he eliminated the most superstars in a single match."

Records were announced countlessly, but I blocked them out and the next theme song to the Royal Rumble that followed. The bell that signaled the start of the match awoke me from my daze and I immediately locked m eyes back on the screen.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a Royal Rumble Match," a man in the ring announced. He was there for a reason; to explain the rules. "Now the superstars who drew number one and two will start this match. Every ninety seconds, a new superstar will join. This continues until all thirty superstars have entered the ring. Elimination occurs when the superstar is thrown over the top rope and both feet touch the floor. The last remaining superstar will be declared the winner and will earn a guaranteed championship opportunity at _Wrestlemania XXVI! _All numbers were chosen randomly."

My attention went away from the screen because I wasn't very much interested. I was only interested in when I as coming in. So I would always glance back at the screen to see who was coming in and what number had just come up.

For example, I knew that Dolph Ziggler entered number one, Evan Bourne entered number two, and CM Punk joined in after the ninety second waiting period was over at number three. I let my attention go away but then refocused to see that CM Punk had just eliminated both Evan Bourne and Dolph Ziggler.

Wow. So I guess if CM Punk was still around when I came in, I would have to watch out for him. But my number was eighteen out of thirty, which is a little later than the halfway mark. So it wasn't _that_ bad.

At entrant four, JTG lasted for only about twenty five seconds and then was thrown over the third rope, both feet hitting the ground. Now CM Punk was all alone in the ring again.

The buzz that signaled for another superstar to come in caught my attention and I saw on the TV that the Great Khali was coming in at number five. Now my attention was a little more focused; I would like to see CM Punk try to get the Great Khali over the top rope. Khali weighed more than four hundred pounds and stood over seven foot.

Instead of easily dominating Khali like he did the rest of his opponents, Punk was caught in a choke hold. They stayed in that position for a few seconds until entrant number six came in. And I thought I heard the weirdest thing ever; Beth Phoenix's entrance music.

Looking at the TV, I saw that Beth Phoenix was entering the Royal Rumble. I let out a laugh in the quiet, lonely room. A girl? I didn't believe this woman could win the Royal Rumble. This was the first time a woman entered the Royal Rumble and I was sure she couldn't throw full-grown men over the top rope.

I didn't know what happened, but when I looked back at the screen, Beth Phoenix was doing a strange dance and the crowd was cheering, the announcers saying, "Oh! Beth Phoenix has eliminated the Great Khali! She has eliminated this four-hundred pound, seven-foot monster!"

This was ridiculous. I smacked my lips and turned away from the screen again to face the wall for a few seconds. The buzz sound alarmed me, so I face the screen again so I could see who just came in.

In addition to seeing that Zack Ryder just came into the match, I saw that Beth Phoenix had just exited because CM Punk had just thrown her over the top rope. His name fit his style. He _was_ a punk. Throwing girls over the top rope. Jeez. What a jerk.

When I looked back at the television, I saw Zack Ryder fly over the top rope. Ryder, too? Darn it. CM Punk had already eliminated five people and was _again_ by himself. Now I sat up because I was starting to get worried. He was dominating the rumble thus far.

Entry number eight surprised both CM Punk and I. It was my best friend, Triple H. Punk's eyes grew huge as he saw who it was. Now I could relax. Nobody would get by The Game, Triple H, or, since I called him by his first name, Hunter.

Shortly after Drew McIntyre came in next, I saw The Game, Triple H, eliminate CM Punk. My muscles relaxed again as I saw that Hunter was only in there with Drew McIntyre. Now that CM Punk was no longer dominating the match anymore since he was out, I felt like I had a better chance in winning.

It seemed only a few seconds later that Ted DiBiase entered at number ten. DiBiase and McIntyre double-teamed The Game, the King Of Kings, Triple H, but Hunter got his break when John Morrison came in next. DiBiase and Morrison had been having issues so they went straight for each other.

Kane came in next at number twelve. I suppose he would be a threat having entered in it twelve times before. So that meant he had experience. Kane seemed to be dominating now. He even choked slam both DiBiase and McIntyre at the same time.

Cody Rhodes came in at thirteen and teamed up with his partner, Ted DiBiase, to jump on Kane. They were repeatedly kicking Kane on his side, ganging up on him.

MVP entered up but seemed to be ambushed by another wrestler who I didn't like very much; The Miz. So would that mean MVP wouldn't compete? I would hope. That would mean an entire superstar less to deal with.

Carlito came in at number fifteen. He wasn't much of a threat to me because I had never been an enemy of his, but he was pretty impressive, just like every other wrestler.

My thoughts were interrupted as The Miz entered at sixteen when the buzz sound signaled for him to come out. He started to mess with Carlito, but then started to pick on Morrison.

I saw a black figure slide into the ring and noticed it was MVP. I guess he had recovered now from that blow from The Miz. And now that The Miz was in there, they would handle each other. So that was good; two less superstars to worry about. And I was right; MVP close-lined himself and The Miz out of the ring, to the ground, although he continued with his vicious assault. The both of them were eliminated but still kept hitting each other with hard blows outside of the ring.

Seventeen was Matt Hardy. So I decided it was time for me to head to the arena because, in ninety seconds, I was going to join the match.

Adrenaline pumping, I slipped away from my locker room.

4

The buzzer signaled for me to enter at eighteen and I jogged down the ramp of the arena, ignoring the thousands of fans screaming my name. On the way to the ring, I saw Matt Hardy get pushed off the turnbuckle and then Triple H throw Kane out of the match. I slid into the ring only seconds after Triple H had just did the spine-buster to most of the people in the ring.

Carlito was in a protective stance, so I forgot about the fact that Kane, who had lasted eight minutes in the rumble match, was out and focused on the problem at hand. As guessed Carlito charged at me and I threw my right arm up, tossing him over the top, third, white rope. Only a second into the match and I eliminated Carlito. That was pretty good.

Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase came at me next but I gave each of them a backhand chop to their chests to keep them away for a second or two. Cody Rhodes rushed at me while I was leaning on the west rope of the ring and I slid out of the way, allowing him to fly right over. He had lasted around eight minutes just as Kane had.

Ted DiBiase rushed at me as I stumbled over to the north rope and he was treated back with me throwing him over.

Now I felt the energy coming along. I had eliminated DiBiase, who had lasted twelve minutes and forty seconds, so now that I was eliminating more major people, I was feeling like I could win.

I then went straight to Drew McIntyre who had been giving several punches to my buddy, The Game, Triple H. I give him a few backhand chops to his chest as I heard the crowd make sounds a little like animals.

McIntyre threw me to the north rope and I bounced back, throwing my elbow to his chest so I could knock him down. I pushed my legs into the air so that I landed on my feet, an impressive move on my part. I threw my fist in the air so I could make the fans feel the adrenaline I was feeling.

Right when I turned around, I saw John Morison's boot come flying towards my face. I ducked to the mat so he could miss and then waited for him to get up.

When he did get up, I grabbed a hand full of his long, black hair and threw him over the top rope. That sucked for me because I had wanted to meet John Morrison and connect with him since he seemed like a cool guy, but I guess it wouldn't be wise now after eliminating him from the Royal Rumble.

As soon as I turned around, Drew McIntyre close-lined me. I fell to the mat for the first time in the match, but it barely hurt. I felt like I had pretty good odds now; I had only been in the match for what a minute? And yet I had already eliminated four people.

Drew McIntyre lifted me from the ground and threw me to the rope, but I rebounded back to him with a knee to his face. Triple H got on the other side of him and we punched McIntyre in the face back and forth. It was fun, sort of like playing ping pong.

McIntyre held his head, walking backwards to the north rope and Triple H and I close-lined him out of the ring.

This was the part I was scared of. Now that Drew McIntyre, who had lasted nearly fifteen minutes, impressively, was eliminated, I would have to fight my best friend, Hunter. His ring name might have been Triple H or The Game, but he was always Hunter to me.

We both walked to the center of the ring, eyeing each other. Our chests touched and, just as we were about to exchange punches, we heard a certain song we both didn't like; John Cena's.

Entering at nineteen, John Cena would be a little fresher than me and a lot fresher than The Game. So we both turned our attention to Cena who had just came in the ring from the bottom rope.

John Cena bounced us both on the ropes and sprang at his, knocking us down with his shoulders. I gritted my teeth as my back hit the ground; that was my move.

When I stood up, Cena had picked up Triple H and literally threw The Game at me. Hunter's shoe impacted with my jaw and I fell to the mat again. But this time, I wouldn't be getting up as fast.

Trying to get my vision clear, I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the crowd cheer "Five Knuckle Shuffle." His hands came down to both mines and The Game's face. I just hated this move. It really did disgust me. I wondered if Triple H felt the same way.

Cringing, my body's reaction was to jump up to where I could stand. The only problem was that I could hardly see, so I ended up turning right around and running into one of John Cena's FU's, another move that I hated. The FU was when Cena lifted the opponents body onto his shoulders and then threw them off so that their body could crash to the mat.

Luckily, Cena didn't execute the move yet; he was trying to get me over the top rope. That sent me into a frenzy; I held onto the top rope as if my life depended on it.

Triple H came to my rescue, kicking Cena in the midsection. John Cena leaned forward, obviously hurt by the move. Triple H put Cena's head between his legs and then jumped up, landing his knees and Cena's face to the mat. Now _that _would hurt Cena very bad.

That's when everything happened too fast. The crowd started counting down from ten for the next entrant to come in, Triple H stumbled back to his feet, his knee hurt, and I saw the absolute golden opportunity; Hunter was wide open, his knee injured.

Feeling bad for what I was about to do, I turned my torso as I kicked my right leg up, connecting it with Triple H's face.

Exhausted, I fell to the floor and just wanted a few seconds to rest.

"Sweet Chin Music," one of the announcers cheered as the crowd went wild over my move. "Shawn Michaels has eliminated Triple H!"

I stood up as the buzzer went off, Shelton Benjamin coming in at twenty. He was a black guy with blond hair, which was pretty weird.

Shelton Benjamin landed punches and kicks on Cena and I. He then threw me to the turnbuckle and tried to throw me to the other one at the other side of the ring. I reversed it, throwing him instead. Shelton jumped from the rope and then did a back-flip, landing on my chest. He waited for me to get up again and then he did a body slam on me.

Although I was still laying on the floor, I could still hear the announcers shout that Shelton Benjamin had been eliminated by an impressive move from Cena. So it was just John Cena and I left in this match for now.

I stood up clumsily and headed towards the east ropes where John Cena was and tried to lift him over by his legs. Instead of risking getting myself thrown over, I just did a back-suplex to him. I stood up again and swung my tired fists at Yoshi Tatsu, who had just came into this match at twenty-one.

Yoshi Tatsu flipped me over and I easily sat up. However, I was meant to be sitting up and Yoshi Tatsu's boot to my face assured me that.

Right when I was able to stand up, I saw John Cena throw Yoshi Tatsu over the top rope. I went straight at Cena hammering him with hard kick to his ribs.

Cena and I went back and forth, but he left me alone in the corner when he heard the entrance song of the Big Show, who had came in at twenty-two.

For me, the match seemed to be going okay until Big Show came. He easily dominated Cena and I and then they both tried to throw me over the rope a numerous amount of times. I hung out, but my heart beat got faster each time.

Mark Henry's theme song played and I was happy. Now the odds would be even. Although the Big Show was seven feet tall and forty-hundred and eighty-five pounds, Mark Henry was also very big in size and, to top that off, he was the world's strongest man.

As I stood up, the freshest man in here, who just came in at entry twenty-four, Chris Masters, knocked me down to the mat again.

Masters toyed with me after that, picking me up and throwing me all around the ring, to turnbuckles and sometimes to just the mat itself. But he left me alone after about ten seconds. But I got even better news when I saw Big Show eliminate Chris Masters.

All Big Show did was throw him right over. It looked pretty simple in this Royal Rumble, compared to my other ones because there was never so few people until the end, like in this one.

Mark Henry was trying to lift over the nearly five-hundred pound Big Show, so I went to go help him as I listened to all of the announcers agree that I was their favorite in this match.

I was shoved down by Mark Henry as soon as R Truth came in at twenty-five. I crawled to the northeast turnbuckle, smiling as I watched R Truth flip both Big Show and Mark Henry over the top rope.

"And look at this!" I heard Michael Cole shout. "R Truth! R Truth! R Truth! R Truth has eliminated the Big Show _and_ Mark Henry!"

But my gratitude towards R Truth didn't last long because he went straight for me after taking them out of the match up. Well, at least he did for a second or two and then headed for John Cena. So I just decided to go to a different turnbuckle and rest.

R Truth gave me a punch to my face and then body slammed me. He picked me up by the hair and pushed my body in the direction of the southeast turnbuckle.

Although I hate to admit it, R Truth was whopping my butt and that was why I was laying on my back when Jack Swagger entered the Royal Rumble at number twenty-six.

I took a lot of damage from Jack Swagger, but I feared him most when he threw me over the top rope and I was almost out. Luckily, I was able to hang on with the strength of my right arm. And then that made me even more happy when he finally left me alone.

Kofi Kingston entered the match at twenty-seven after the loud buzz and went straight to work on everybody except me. I tried to stand but then when I did, I saw that the ropes were shaking very violently and that Jack Swagger was outside of the ropes, his facial expression confused. I also saw Kofi Kingston dash out of the way from the ropes. So it didn't take long for me to find out what had happened; Kofi Kingston had eliminated Jack Swagger.

I went after Kofi but then got a dropkick from him. I managed to get to the northeast turnbuckle again.

I watched groggily as Kofi Kingston tossed R Truth out of the ring. The announcers, like always, let out another surprised burst of speech.

Just then, I heard the song of Chris Jericho. Uh-oh. I have had some problems before and he entered nine entries later than I did, so he is going to be a problem. He was a difficulty definitely in the Royal Rumble of 2003, when he eliminated me with two minutes.

After John Cena did the FU on Chris Jericho, I took hold of the match which was a really good thing for me. All I wanted now was to have that match with the Undertaker. To beat him at Wrestlemania.

Kofi Kingston had dropkicked me, but John Cena had spun him around and threw him over the ropes. Great. Now it was just Cena, Chris Jericho, and myself.

The clock counted down and then I hear the theme music of Edge go off. One of the announcers almost cussed in amazement, the crowd screamed and cheered, but I wondered how this was possible. Was it possible that Edge could be back from his injury?

I stood up to see Chris Jericho's confused face as he got speared, which was really just a hard, breath-taking tackle. I also got a spear from Edge. It was his welcome-back present to me.

Right away when I stood up, I saw Edge toss Chris Jericho out. I went towards Edge and started to beat on him. Maybe he wasn't fully recovered and I could beat him down. I glanced in Jericho's direction to see that he was astonished, in total amazement about what had just happened. But more than all, he was shocked about being eliminated from the Royal Rumble.

So now there was just John Cena, Edge, myself, and whoever was going to enter at thirty in just over a minute. I almost smiled to myself as I realized that I had made it to the final four.

When I was able to stand up, I went right for Edge again as the announcers and fans marveled over Edge's return.

While I was fighting with Edge, I also heard the last buzz for the Royal Rumble as the last person, Batista, entered the Royal Rumble Match at number thirty. The last number.

Now that it came down to the final four, I got worried. John Cena, Edge, Batista, and I were all good wrestlers.

The only question was who was going to win. That was what really bothered me. But I thought that if I try hard enough, I could win.

Batista picked me up and did a powerful body slam on me. My hand automatically reached to my back as I felt the horrible pain.

Edge was the one hurting most, though, since John Cena had picked him up and did the FU.

I stood up and picked John Cena up as well so he could stand on his feet. I threw him to the ropes and flew at Cena, knocking him down with my elbow.

John Cena stood up as fast as he could, but I picked him up and forced his midsection down on my knee. He groaned in pain and his face turned red. I gave him one hard chop and he fell to the floor.

Next, I did the same thing to Batista, but as soon as I turned around to check on Cena, he was already up, so I scooped him up and body slammed him. I looked back at Batista and body slammed him as well since he was up.

Then, I climbed onto the top turnbuckle and flew all the way down, planting my elbow into John Cena's chest. I got to my feet as quick as I could.

Man, I felt good, like I was going to win. I was dominating.

Now I needed to go check on Batista.

When I turned around, Batista caught my kick, but I kicked my right leg so it crashed into his skull. I got onto the turnbuckle again and then jumped down, forcing my elbow to Batista's chest.

I looked around to make sure everybody was down. Yes.

With assurance, I backed into the corner and started to stomp my right foot slowly, picking up the pace with each stop. This was my finisher and it was called the Sweet Chin Music.

As John Cena stood, I gave him the Sweet Chin Music and then waited for Batista to stand and then also kicked him in the face with a powerful kick.

I backed up against the ropes and then, before I could get my sight clear, I saw a figure rushing towards me. Edge. No wonder he was out of sight. Both he and I flew over the ropes, but held on to them so we wouldn't fall to the floor.

We both stood up at the same time, but I connected my Sweet Chin Music to him while we were on the apron. Instead of falling down, he fell backwards, into the ring.

My hear beat increased again, but this time so much more than the others.

Batista rushed at me and I tried to get a good grip on the ropes, but my hands were sweaty and I was hanging on backwards. "Batista!" the announcers screamed. "Look at Batista!" He flailed his hands and then I lost my balance and fell to the floor.

I lost.

_Game over_.

"No! No!" the announcers roared simultaneously. "Shawn Michaels has been eliminated! What? This can't be!"

I couldn't sort out the voices anymore, just stare up at the ceiling and clutch my hands at my long, blond hair, looking up at the Wrestlemania sign.

No.

Now I would never get to beat the Undertaker's streak.

5

The sadness and sorrow passed and now came my blinding rage. I was disgusted at the face of Batista, who was shocked his self, his expression somewhat guilty.

"Hearts are broken right now!" Matt Striker announced. "Many people wanted to see Shawn Michaels vs. The Undertaker this year at Wrestlemania."

"The referee is telling Shawn Michaels it's over and to go home, but Michaels seems unable to comprehend what this means," one of the announcers said.

"The dreams of Shawn Michaels has been ruined." I noticed the voice as Michael Cole, who was shocked himself.

"You're out of here, Shawn!" the referee ordered me.

My rage taking over, I grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him out of the way. I slid back into the ring and tried to attack Batista, but one referee was holding me back with all his strength.

I backed away a few steps to get a good measure and then let my foot land solidly on his face. The referee was knocked out.

I was going to attack Batista, but I couldn't; the shock was too much for me. I feel to my knees and clutched at my hair again.

Another referee came into the ring and ordered for me to leave. I nodded a small nod, then rolled out of the ring, walking up the ramp and back to my locker room with a mouth hung wide open and a head full of rage and shock.

6

My good buddy Triple H wanted to talk to me alone in my locker room the next night before Monday Night Raw started. "So, what did you want, Hunter?" I asked him.

"Shawn, you're obsessed with this. Super-kicking referees, fines. You're lucky you weren't suspended, you're lucky you're here at all. You're spiraling down, man. It's not the end of the world. There are plenty of other guys for you to compete with at Wrestlemania, Shawn."

"Not for me," I said, my throat feeling clogged up.

It was true. The only person I wanted to face at the Royal Rumble was The Undertaker. And, now that I hadn't won the Royal Rumble, I was never going to get my rematch.

But I had to get my head in the game. Tonight, Triple H and I were reuniting DX for another night and defending the World Tag Team Championships.

7

The bell rang and I immediately jumped at the Big Show. We grappled for a few seconds. I remembered Big Show last night, when he was eliminated, along with Mark Henry, by R Truth. But now, tonight, Triple H and I were defending our World Tag Team Championships against the Big Show and The Miz. I thought this was going to be a fairly easy match.

I gave the Big Show two backhand chops, but then he grabbed me by my neck and threw me against the turnbuckle. He rushed at me, throwing a punch, but I ducked out of the way and now he was the one on the turnbuckle and I was, getting backhand chops from me.

I grabbed his arm and threw him to the opposite turnbuckle. That move already made me a tiny bit tired; throwing a four-hundred and eighty-five pound man around wasn't easy.

He reversed it and then bounced me off the ropes, close lining me when I got back to him. I heard the thud of my body hitting the mat and felt the pain right away.

The Big Show tagged in The Miz and Miz started giving me kicks to the face. I tried to get up, but he bounced off the ropes and dropkicked me in the face. I flew back down to the mat.

Miz grabbed my leg and picked it up, my body flat on the mat, pinning me, but only getting a two count. The rules for a tag team match were simple; you could tag in your partner, but the both of you couldn't be in the ring at the same time for more than five seconds or you were disqualified.

To win, you could either pin one of your opponents, which is to be on top of them for three seconds while their body is flat on the mat, or you could win by submission, which was to get make your opponent hit their hand on the mat three times. In order for them to submit, you would have to get them in a hold that caused them pain for several seconds. However, most matches were won by pin fall.

The Miz picked me up, my head tight between his arm, which was wrapped around my neck, choking me, and dragged me to the corner so he could tag in the Big Show.

Since I was stuck, Big Show easily entered the ring and kicked me in the ribs. I fell to the mat again, while the Miz exited the ring to stand on the apron, so he wouldn't get disqualified.

Big show talked smack to me as I tried to stand. When I was able to get back on my feet, he picked me up and started to do the Bear Hug on me, which was a move that larger athletes like him did. The Bear Hug was when one superstar easily picked up the other and hugged them with as much as force possible. This would hurt their opponents back terribly and had the chance of making the opponent tap out, submit.

The referee asked me if I wanted to tap, to lose by submission, but I refused, enduring the hold a little longer. Big show's muscles got tired and he let me down.

I backed away a few steps and then let my kick to my face, attempting to execute my finished, the Sweet Chin Music. He reversed it and grabbed me by the throat, looking do _his _finisher now, the Choke Slam, which was when a superstar picked up his opponent and slammed them to the ground.

Scared, I hit him on the head so that he would be dazed for a second and then dived to the southwest turnbuckle and hit Triple H's hand, tagging him in. So that meant he was the one fighting now and I would stand near the turnbuckle, waiting for him to tag me back in later.

Standing on the apron of the ring and watched as Triple H gave a knee to Big Show's face. Big show slowly tried to dive at Triple H, but The Game picked him up and slammed him to the mat, a move called the Spine Buster because it hurt your back, mostly your spine.

The crowd went wild as Triple H kicked Big Show in the mid area. Big show bent down in pain and Triple H put Big Show's head between his legs, looking to do his finisher now, which was called the Pedigree.

Before Triple H could do his finisher, The Miz entered the ring and rushed at The Game, but Triple H quickly picked up and then slammed him, executing the Spine Buster again.

When The Game turned around, Big Show had recovered and choke slammed Triple H. While the referee rolled The Miz out of the ring, I entered now, and, when Big Show turned around, I gave him a kick to the face.

"And Sweet Chin Music!" Michael Cole screamed at ringside, the announce table. "Can Triple H recover soon enough to pin the Big Show?"

I exited the ring to go stand on the apron, near the turnbuckle.

Darn it. If The Game could pin Big Show right now, he would be the winner of the match.

However, both men were down. So neither could get the pin. I had done my finisher to Big Show after he had done his to Triple H. So I assumed The Game would get up a second or two before Big Show, but would be too late to pin him.

Now that both of them had been down for some time, the referee started to count to ten. If he did get to ten and both of them were still down, both teams would lose. But if Triple H got up at the count of nine and Big Show stayed down for ten, our team would win. If it was the other way around, we would lose.

Both The Miz and I reached our hand out, hoping to be tagged so we could pin one another, take advantage, and win.

As it was about to reach a ten count, The Game and Big Show got up, tagging in their partners. So now The Miz and I were going to fight it off.

I was taking over the match and I started to count my stomps, ready to deliver Sweet Chin Music and win the match up. I stopped when I saw the Undertaker's face on the large screen above the ramp of the arena. I stared at him in startled disbelief. He stared back. Unmoving.

Undertaker's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he made a scary face, his mouth pulling up at the corners. And that's when I realized he had set me up because when I turned around, The Miz tackled me and I was being pinned.

But I couldn't kick out because of the unbelievable weight he was putting on me. "One, two, three!" the referee called and then the bell rung.

"Here are your winners and the new tag team champions; Big Show and The Miz."

Crap! Again? I lost _again_? I grimaced in pain at the thought and then looked away from Big Show and The Miz who were exiting the arena with their championships and to Triple H, who was standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

Although he was disappointed, Triple H bent down and put a hand on my shoulder sincerely.

"Don't touch me!" I shouted, rolling out of the ring, headed up the ramp. I couldn't believe it. I was so mad. So deadly furious! How could this happen?

It seemed almost too familiar now, walking up the ramp, my head hung low in defeat.

8

CM Punk's knee greeted my face. I was in another match with Triple H, the next week on Monday Night Raw, and this match was again for the World Tag Team Championships. But, this time, instead of it just being Triple H and I against The Miz and The Big Show, a third team had also joined; CM Punk and Luke. If your partner was pinned, your team was out. So it meant that after the first team was eliminated, it was just going to be the final two.

Anyway, one man from each of the three teams would be in the ring simultaneously. Right now, the Big Show, CM Punk, and I were in it. I crawled over to tag in Triple H as CM Punk tagged in his partner, Luke Gallows at the same time. However, since Big Show was doing well, he didn't need to tag in his partner.

When I stood up on the apron, I saw that Luke Gallows and Triple H had started jumping Big Show since he was the largest, although they were still on separate teams.

But Big Show started to throw Triple H and Luke Gallows again after a second.

Big show then started picking on Gallows and then that gave Triple H a second to recover and then attack Big Show. Triple H tried for the Pedigree, his finishing move, but Big Show lifted him up and threw him out of the ring.

Luke Gallows and Big Show tagged their partners in after a few seconds, but my partner, The Game, stayed in the ring. He had just got pinned by The Miz, but Miz only got a two count, which meant DX was still in the competition.

Triple H was able to tag me in, and when he did, the crowd cheered and the announcers shouted when I started taking control in the match.

I was doing okay until CM Punk had picked me up on his shoulders and was looking to do his finisher where he would knee me solidly in the face.

But I was able to reverse it and when he turned around, I kicked CM Punk right in the face, going straight for the pin.

"One. Two. Three." The bell rung. Now CM Punk and Luke Gallows team was eliminated. Just down to my team, DX, and the current champions, The Miz and Big Show.

After that, DX really just dominated the match. But since I'd been an absolutely big losing streak, _I_ wanted to be the one to pin The Miz and win the World Tag Team Championships back. So I slapped my hands to Triple H's shoulder as he was about to do his finisher.

I tagged myself in.

"Get outta here, I'll finish it off," I shouted at Triple H.

"What did you do that for?" Triple screamed back. "I had it all under control!"

Just as I was going to turn around, I felt somebody attack me from behind. The Miz. And because of the assault, I landed on Triple H so we were both down.

Miz put all his weight on me and then the referee counted.

"One! Two! Three!"

The bell rung and I knew that I had just cost DX the match because of my selfish behavior. I lost again.

A minute or two later when the Big Show and The Miz exited through the ramp, Triple H stayed staring at me, his hands full of his hair that he was grabbing.

I sat up, throwing my DX wristbands off of my hands and just leaving the ring. Triple H stared after me as I headed for the locker room in defeat again.

As I left, I head the heartbroken crowd and I heard Jerry the King Lawler say something that I agreed with.

"Man that was, uh . . . Shocking."

9

My music played as I entered the ring, starting off Monday Night Raw. There was only one reason why I was here; to explain why I did what I did last night.

The Undertaker had been defending his World Heavyweight Championship against Chris Jericho in a No Disqualification Match last night at the pay-per view _Elimination Chamber_. I had been sitting in my locker room, watching The Undertaker compete and then I had realized something; since it was No Disqualification, there were no rules. I could beat Undertaker to a bloody pulse and cost him his championship. That would make him want to fight me.

So I had put on my wrestling gear and jogged to the ring. It was only at the perfect time that I got there; the Undertaker was setting up Chris Jericho for his finisher, but when Undertaker turned around to see me, I did the Sweet Chin Music to him.

Right after Undertaker fell to the floor from my kick, Jericho had stood up, took advantage, and had defeated Undertaker, and now becoming the World Heavyweight Champion. It was because of me that the Undertaker wasn't champion.

"I am not going to take up a lot of your time tonight," I told the crowd, "because my explanation for my actions last night really isn't all that complicated. I did what I had to do. I did what I _needed _to do. Now I understand that what I've done isn't really all that popular with too many of you, but that's something I am willing to live with. And I've heard the rumors about the Undertaker possibly being here tonight and I also understand that for every action is a reaction. With the regard to the Undertaker, I'm not just hoping for a reaction. I'm counting on it. Because there's absolutely no one that can possibly—"

_Bong_.

And I knew that could only be the Undertaker. My lips pulled up at the corners as the entire arena went dark, the only light being the blue flames of the Undertaker's appearance. I watched as he slowly made his way to the ring. When he got inside, he stared me down for a few seconds and then spoke into the microphone being held with his right arm.

"You wanted my attention," the Undertaker breathed. "Now you have it."

It took me a second before I answered. "Last year," I started, "people said we had the greatest match in Wrestlemania history. Some people even said it was the greatest match ever. As flattering as that is, you have to understand; I wrestled the perfect match—_nearly_ perfect match," I corrected myself. "One mistake—_one _mistake—and it cost me everything. You, better than anybody, should know that is something I can _not _live with. I asked you—I-I _begged_ you for a rematch. But you refused. You ignored me. So I had no other choice but to cost you the World Heavyweight Championship. I know you're angry at me. I know that, as you stand there, you can't wait to get your hands on me. And that's okay. You want revenge. Face me at Wrestlemania, Undertaker, and _get_ your revenge."

"You're on," he told me. "I accept." I had to fight the urge to smile, the urge to dance around in absolute pleasure and joy. I started for the ropes but was stopped by his cold, hard, deep voice again. "Under one condition." Without hesitating, I walked back to the center of the ring to face him. "This year, you have to put up something as well." For a long moment, I stared, waiting for him to continue. "Your soul. This year won't be enough. If you defeat me, you end the streak. "_But_," he said with a twist, "if I beat you, your career is over." I didn't say anything, only hold my intent gaze. "That's it, Shawn; The Streak versus your career."

After only a little over five seconds, I raised my microphone. "You don't get it. If I can't beat you at Wrestlemania, I have no career."

The bong went off again and both Undertaker and I left.

Success.

I had my rematch now.

10

Wrestlemania XVI. Tonight was the most important night of my entire career. I was facing the Undertaker. I sat in my locker room waiting for the promotions for the match between he and I to end so that I could head to the ring. On one of them promo's, Michael Cole said, "This obsession with the Undertaker has taken Shawn to a place he has never been before." That made me mad. After that, a promo of my career played, then one of Undertaker's Streak.

The last promo was the one I watched intently. It was one that made my upcoming match tonight seem like a documentary.

John Cena started off the promo, saying, "The Undertaker has amassed a _giant _winning streak at Wrestlemania." _Ain't No Grave _by Johnny Cash started to play as the promotion advanced. Images of the Undertaker flickered, all of them showing past Wrestlemania matches of his.

"He's The Phenom; he does things that other men can not do," CM Punk said, popping up on the screen for a brief second.

An image from Wrestlemania XXII popped up of Undertaker jumping in the air and taking down Mark Henry, the voice of the announcer, Michael Cole, shouting, "Rest. In. Peace!"

"At Wrestlemania, he just gets another look in his eyes." Big Show shook his head as his picture popped up on the TV. "Man, you realize he's focused."

Another voice of an announcer said something. "How on earth on you gonna stop _this _man?"

John Cena's picture came back on the screen for a moment. "Wrestlemania is his stage."

I noticed the change of voices as my best friend Triple H now appeared on the promo. "Just to get there is a feeling itself and to win _every single _time you're there. It's a benchmark that will never be duplicated."

The song by Johnny Cash resumed and then it flashed more pictures, the last set really bugging me. It was at the end of the last Wrestlemania when Undertaker did his finisher, the Tombstone Pile-driver, and pinned me to three. "The immortal Undertaker's streak continues!" Michael Cole said and then "17-0" popped up on the screen.

If I could beat the Undertaker this time at Wrestlemania XXVI, I could make it 17-1, but if I lost, it would be 18-0. But if it was 18-0, then my career would be over. If I lost this match, my career was over.

For the third time, John Cena's face popped up on the screen after an images of me. "But, if anybody can win at Wrestlemania, it's Shawn Michaels."

Rey Mysterio finished John Cena's statement now. "He can end Undertaker's streak."

MVP was up next to speak on the promotion. "When it's Wrestlemania, he's on the zone at a level very few people can get to."

"If anybody can beat the streak," CM Punk said. "it's Shawn Michaels. He's probably just one Super Kick away."

"Two of the top dogs ever battling it out on the biggest stage of them all, you're seeing something special," John Cena explained.

"The rematch will happen," the voice of Michael Cole assured.

"Classic," was the last thing Rey Mysterio had to say on the promo.

"I don't know if there's ever been a bigger match in the history of Wrestlemania!" exclaimed the voice of Jerry The King Lawler.

"And no matter what your expectations are, it's gonna surpass it," Triple H concluded the voices part of the promo.

Now that it was the end of the promotion, big, white, letter popped up that read; _On March 28__th__. Where will you be? Wrestlemania XXVI. The Undertaker. Shawn Michaels. Streak vs. Career_.

And it ended with the Undertaker and I staring each other down.

I stood up; it was time to head to the ring.

I walked down the halls, getting ready to enter my match with the Undertaker at Wrestlemania XXVI. I was just around the corner, but was stopped because I heard the voice of Triple H. "Shawn!" I turned around to see that he was standing behind me, expression somewhat angry. "Has this obsession gone this far?" he screamed at me. "You're willing to throw DX away, huh? You're willing to throw your career away?"

"Like I said before; if I can't beat him, I have no career."

With that, I walked off and entered the arena.

11

I had a legendary entrance, just as Undertaker was having now. I closed my eyes, my heart pumping faster as I heard the announcer in the ring introduce the Undertaker.

"And his opponent, from Death Valley, weighing in at two-hundred and ninety-nine pounds, _Theeeee Underrrrrrtakerrr_!"

Jerry the King Lawler, one of the announcers at the side of the ring spoke. "Well. I don't know if there's anything more inspiring than to see the Undertaker enter this huge stadium, with over seventy thousand of our fans here tonight. I mean, it's . . . it's bone-chilling to see him rise up out of that floor and his way slowly and methodically to this ring."

"He is a truly one-in-a-lifetime-superstar . . . The _Undertaker_," said Josh, another of the announcers.

"There is a reverence here tonight for both of these men," said Michael Cole. "But, for the Undertaker, all good things can come to an end. He is 17-0 at Wrestlemania and has the greatest streak of all time. During that streak, he has impressively defeated ten former world champions."

The Undertaker took of his coat and when took of his hat, fire blazed from the turnbuckles and his face was now exposed, which showed that his eyeballs were rolled to the back of his head. The fans and announcers awe of this, but I just stared as if this were an everyday thing.

"It does not appear that Shawn Michaels is intimidated at all," Michael Cole commented as I held my gaze with The Dead Man.

Both the Undertaker and I walked to the center of the ring and we stared each other down for literally almost a minute. I lifted my right hand and stuck my thumb of, scraping it against my throat, looking at the Undertaker. In other words, that meant, "You are dead."

The Undertaker backed up a few steps, his hands up in front of his face. The bell rung and he dash at me. I stepped out of the way, letting his body crash against the turnbuckle. I gave him three backhand chest chops and then he grabbed me by my head and threw _me_ against the turnbuckle.

He swung at me, but I dodged, putting him against the turnbuckle again. I gave him one backhand chest chop and then he stumbled to the opposite turnbuckle, trying to get away.

I was on pursuit with him, already giving him another backhand chest chop. Undertaker's entire body wiggled slightly and he grimaced at the burning sensation of his chest. I gave him another one and then I threw him to the diagonal turnbuckle. He reversed it and I was the one who impacted with the corner of the ring.

Stumbling back, I turned around as Undertaker lifted me onto his shoulders. He tossed my face against the turnbuckle and my whole face ached at that moment. I clutched to it, turning around again. Undertaker had bounced on the rope and gave me a boot to the face. I fell to the floor, already becoming exhausted and beaten.

I stood again and found rest at the turnbuckle but only a second later, Undertaker rushed at me, all of his weight crushing me. I grunted.

He grabbed my left arm and then held onto it as he climbed on top of the highest turnbuckle, the third one. Undertaker unsteadily walked on the ropes. I knew what he was trying to do, so I pulled away with as much force as I could.

Undertaker fell of the ropes but was still on his feet. He yanked on my elbow and then climbed back on the turnbuckle, walking on the ropes, not letting go of my arm.

He jumped off the rope and brought the weight of his right arm down on my left elbow bone. I fell to the ground, my arm hurting because of the move.

I tried to stand quickly but when I turned around, Undertaker caught me by the throat and lifted me up for a choke slam. Before he could slam me to the mat, I elbowed his arm to get out of the hold.

When he turned around, he came at me, but I cleverly kicked him on his leg, which seemed to be his weakest point right now after doing that move from when he was on top of the rope. I kicked at it again and then when I tried for a third time, he gave me a solid punch to my face. I fell to the floor again from the impact of his fist.

He went for me again, grabbing and slamming my head on the turnbuckle. Undertaker gave me a right hand punch and then, by my hair, dragged me to the center of the ring, scooping me up, and body slamming me.

I jumped up instantly again and grabbed his right arm and tried to stretch it every way, trying to cause damage to it.

Undertaker shoved my hands out of the way and wrapped his fingers around my neck again, attempting a choke slam. I kicked him on his leg to hold him off for just a second but then he came back, giving me another punch.

He grabbed my arm and tried to bend it and hurt it, but I had reversed his hold and kicked at the area of his face when he turned around, hoping to connect Sweet Chin Music.

Somehow, he got out of they way, so I didn't do as I hoped. I aimed for Taker's knee, kicking it whenever I could. I got him in the turnbuckle so he would be trapped and would have nowhere to go. I was now in control of the match as I kicked and kicked at his leg, but then Undertaker had managed to sneak a punch to my face.

He landed another powerful punch and I let him alone for just a second. When I turned back to him to continue my attack, he had surprisingly stood.

I was going to kick at his leg some more, but Undertaker had powerfully thrown me back to the turnbuckle, landing various punches to my face.

As he backed away, I thought of rushing back at him so I did. However, it wasn't such a wise idea, because he had hooked a punch on me and now I was lying back down on the mat.

Struggling to stand, I leaned against the ropes and Undertaker close lined me out of the ring. I fell to the floor outside of the ring and I felt all of the muscles in my body tense. That had to have been a seven foot fall and I landed face-first on the ground.

I slid back into the ring and went for Undertaker, ramming him like a bull. He fell down easily, grabbing at his injured leg. I grabbed his legs as he was on the floor, but he kicked them up, causing me to fly through the ropes and back outside of the ring.

When I stood up, Undertaker grabbed my entire body and rammed it onto one of the four metal poles that support the ring. I made a funny noise as I fell to the floor, my back aching more. He picked me up again and threw me back into the ring to where my head was sticking out.

I could feel the steps from his feet going across the apron, followed by a horrible pain at my throat. He had just delivered the leg drop.

When Undertaker reentered into the ring, I tackled him and then wrapped his legs around mine, then I started to pull on them so that it would hurt terribly. Maybe I would win right now by a submission.

The Undertaker writhed in pain, refusing to tap. I stayed in that submission hold for a while, but then was surprised when he sat up and then twisted his whole torso, reversing the move on me.

Now I was the one writhing, but it didn't last long because the Undertaker was too tired to keep his muscles in a certain position at the moment.

The both of us stood up, exchanging rights and lefts, some of the hits even backhand chest chops.

After a minute or so of that, he had bounced me off the ropes, but I came back at him, knocking him down with my shoulder. I jerked my legs up, standing now.

As I turned around, I felt Undertaker take hold of my neck and pick me up, my back burning now. "How many times have we seen this?" one of the announcers asked. "Choke slam!" The crowd started to cheer in excitement. "Is the career over? Is the career over for Shawn Michaels?" I heard Michael Cole shout as Taker hooked my leg. I kicked out right after two.

Undertaker scooped me up onto his shoulder, but before he could slam me, I reversed it and grabbed a hold on his ankle, turning it every way I could.

Groaning in pain, the Undertaker tried to reach for the ropes, his face now a cherry red. This was good for me because I now had a submission hold on the injured foot.

He continued to cry in pain, but had somehow pried my hold I had off of his injured leg. He stood up and I saw my chance, so I close lined him over the ropes, both of us falling over, but myself more gently because I had landed on the apron, not the floor, like he did.

I stood on the apron and saw that he was on his feet as well outside of the ring, so I launched myself at him. I didn't expect it, but he caught me in midair and picked me up, turning me upside down and jumping up, his knees forcing my face to the floor. He had just executed his finishing move.

The Tombstone Pile-driver, the move that had got me pinned last year.

I guess he had been resting for a minute or two because that was about the length of time before I felt the Undertaker pick me up and throw me inside the ring. He lifted my leg, but I kicked out at two. Again.

Undertaker picked me up again, but this time lifted my entire body onto his shoulders, trying for the Last Ride, but I reversed it and Undertaker's body slammed against the mat with an amazing amount of force.

I stood up again and went to go climb on top of the turnbuckle. I jumped up and drove my elbow to his chest. Well, at least I thought I had; he moved out of the way, so I had just drove my elbow to the surface of the mat. Ouch. It hurt.

Back on my feet, I tried to get a hold of the Undertaker, but he had got me in a headlock, where he was laying down so he could wrap his legs around my thighs to keep me in that position, while he used both of his arms to pull on my neck. This move was called Hell's Gate.

Pain was the only word to describe this move, but as much as it hurt, I couldn't tap, couldn't give up. I threw my body up as a reverse, so that now I was pinning him.

Taker kicked out at two, so close to three.

We both stood up at the same time, but I saw my opportunity when his hands weren't blocking his face; I threw my right leg at his face, knocking him down.

"Sweet Chine Music!" the announcers cheered. I jumped right at the Undertaker and lifted his leg. "Is the streak over? Is the streak over?" Michael Cole demanded.

"One! Two!" the referee counted, but, before he could say three, Undertaker kicked out.

Now that I was dominating this match, I was going to have to use my head. So I stood up and backed into the corner, stomping my foot on the ground so that the crowd could count with me, give me the adrenaline and the energy I needed to deliver this Sweet Chine Music. I think if I got this, then I would walk away the winner.

I let my kick lose, but the Undertaker caught it and lifted my up with his hands, my midsection on his shoulders so that he could slam me even more powerfully to the mat. The longer the fall, the more it would hurt.

The Undertaker hooked my leg. "One Two—" the referee was cut off before three because I had kicked out.

He picked me up and threw me out of the ring. I fell to the floor and watched helplessly, weakly, as the Undertaker took out the monitors of the announce tables. The announcers stood up, not wanting to be in the middle of what was going to happen.

Oh no. Was Undertaker planning to slam me through the announce table? Well, it was too late for thinking now because he had just picked me up, putting my midsection on his shoulders so he could slam me through the announce table.

_No. No way_, I told myself. If he executed this, he would end my career. Undertaker would beat him. I couldn't let this happen. Now that I knew what I needed to do, I got out of the position he had me in and he dropped me.

When he turned around, I delivered Sweet Chin Music, landing my kick right to his face. He fell on the announce table, but didn't break through it.

And that's when a new idea occurred to me; I climbed on the top turnbuckle, made sure my balance was right, and then launched myself off so that I could connect my elbow to his chest. The jump was so far, I didn't think I was going to make it at first. But, then, amazingly, I did.

The crowd erupted like a volcano, the announcers screamed in surprise, and I stood back up as quickly as I could. Now my next objective was to get Undertaker in the ring and pin him.

I picked up the Undertaker and rolled him into the ring. "I think the streak is over!" I heard Jerry Lawler say as I slowly slid into the ring as well.

I stood up and waited for Undertaker. When he stood as well, I gave him the Sweet Chin Music. Kicked him right in the face. I did it. I ended the streak! "Michaels did it! Shawn Michaels did it!" I heard the announcers shout. "The streak is over!" I lifted Taker's legs and listened for the count.

"One! Two! Thr—" The referee stopped as the Undertaker forced his entire body up. Now way. How could he have kicked out?

"What?" Jerry the King Lawler demanded from ringside.

"How on earth can the Undertaker kick out from Sweet Chin Music?" Michael Cole asked in an astonished tone. He switched back to his regular tone after that. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are so close to Shawn Michaels and The Undertaker, we can literally see their bodies shaking, twitching in pain, in emotion."

Now that I was standing up, I tuned up the band as the crowd counted the number of stomps I made as I waited for Undertaker to get up so I could deliver Sweet Chin Music.

I threw my leg to his face, but Undertaker caught me by the throat, lifted me up, and slammed me to the mat.

He got to his feet again and then lifted me up so that my face was at his midsection and my midsection was at his face. Oh no. Not the Tombstone Pile-driver. But I was too late. Undertaker had already delivered it and I was nearly knocked out.

"One! Two! Th—" the referee counted out loud, but I had kicked out. The announcers and crowd went into a frenzy, all of the people watching this match in disbelief.

"Shawn Michaels has no surrender," I heard Michael Cole say. "Shawn Michaels has no quit to him."

Jerry Lawler said, "The Undertaker cannot believe. Nor can I. And nor can the seventy thousand fans."

"Undertaker, disbelief, for the first time in his career, crossing his face. You can feel the _emotion_ seeping through the pores of the seventy-two thousand fans here in Phoenix," Michael Cole said. "Nobody wants the streak to end, nobody wants the career to end. Something has to give here at Wrestlemania."

Then, Jerry Lawler spoke as well. "I'm just trying to read the thoughts, the emotion on the face of the Undertaker. What is he thinking now? Is he wondering if he has what it takes to put Shawn Michaels away, or is he just trying to plan his next assault?"

"Undertaker realizes he is in the ring with his toughest opponent _ever_," Matt Striker, from the announce table, said.

I saw, dizzily, what was happening above me.

Undertaker scratched at his throat with his thumb, one of his many signatures. No. He was going to tombstone me. Then, I saw his expression change, almost as if he didn't want to end my career and he had finally understood that.

"Perhaps respect is being shown for the career of Shawn Michaels," Michael Cole suggested.

I tried to stand, clutching to the Undertaker's clothing weakly.

"Stay down!" he screamed at me.

Although it took me a second to stand, I did. I was weak, sure, but I wasn't going to give up. I made the "You're dead" gesture by scraping my thumb to my neck as if I were chopping my head off.

The Undertaker's eyes widened in disbelief.

I slapped him and his expression changed from sincere to furious. "Well, if Shawn Michaels is going out, he's going out with a fight," Michael Cole commented.

The Undertaker picked me up so that my midsection under his face and his midsection was under my chin. Oh crap.

Undertaker jumped into the air, his knees folding and my face, head, slamming to the mat.

"Tombstone!" Michael Cole shouted. "And here's the cover."

I wanted so bad to kick out of the pin but I couldn't. My body was frozen. I was knocked out.

12

"One! Two! Three!"

_Ding! Ding! Ding!_

I heard Undertaker's theme song play. He won.

"Shawn Michaels career is . . . Over," Michaels Cole said.

Then there was only black.

And the next time I awoke, I saw the Undertaker heading back to the locker room. I sat up, running my hands through my hair. I looked at the shocked audience in shame. Slowly, I stood up and also headed back to the locker room, this time with the greatest shame I ever had.

As far as I was concerned, the Undertaker was 18-0.


End file.
